The Breaking Sound

A wide smile on every single picture, but when you see her in person you claim her bitch face brings an ice cold feeling to your bones. You say she has no feelings, you say there’s a hole in her chest but you don’t really care because that’s not the hole in her body you’re interested in. When you get to know her you find a little trace of light in her eyes and you drain it out until her pupils became night dark.

Every time you kissed her did you hear the breaking sound? Did you hear her reach into her velvet, red insides, breaking a part of her ribs to fill the hole someone left in you? Do ice cold women do that? Did you hear the breaking sound every time you made her believe in your point of view? The sound of her will breaking to fit within your rules, the sound of her bones breaking when she tried to make herself look smaller than you, the sound of her hips breaking every time you made her work on top, the sound of her lips breaking every time she had to fake it to build your ego up.

She lived believing you have four hands: two to keep on her throat suffocating her and two to keep over your ears so you wouldn’t hear the bones in her neck breaking. But here’s the thing about women like her. They get hurt but don’t show it. They run to a corner like a wounded wolf to lick their wounds and the taste of their own blood makes them realize they’ve had enough.

Here’s the thing about women like her who will build up people like you with parts of their own body. They will stick their hand into the ground, take the soil and fill the hole they’ve made on their body trying to fix you. She will disappear into thin air, fade away because for you she was never a person, she was an illusion, she was a low-budget romantic movie you wanted her to be. For you she wasn’t a person.

She will be stronger and you will still be running around, scared of loneliness, weak as a leaf underneath her heel, looking for spread legs to contain and hide your insecurities, you will still think people are your medicine.